


Don't Be Afraid

by badlifechoices



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies), Mission: Impossible - Rogue Nation (2015)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Will Needs a Hug, not as hopeless as the summary suggests, really - Freeform, spoilers for mi5 obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 22:06:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4539147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badlifechoices/pseuds/badlifechoices
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s no misunderstanding. He knows it. Just like he knows that it’s over. Even without writing a single word, Ethan has made it obvious that they are over. It’s his fault, Will thinks, it has to be his fault. He has done something wrong, he should’ve come after Ethan, should’ve followed him wherever he went after London.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Be Afraid

**Don't Be Afraid**

**It’s Only Love**

 

* * *

 

 

 _“You don’t want it.” The calm way the words are spoken doesn’t do anything to hide the hurt behind them. Ethan tries to keep his face neutral but Will can see the disappointment in his eyes._  
  
_“No, that’s not it…” He’s still not sure how to react, his usually so brilliant mind not quick enough to catch up with what is happening. He’s still staring down at that simple, silver ring in the other man’s hand, how it seems to glare back at him, disapproving, accusing._  
  
_“It’s okay. You don’t need to take it. I just thought-” He hates it, hates the way he can hear Ethan’s frustration in his voice._

_He needs to do something, knows that this is the moment to swallow down the doubt and fear and uncertainty that plagues him still after being part of this man’s life for over a year… Before Ethan can close his hand, he reaches out, wordlessly taking the ring from him. It’s cold, weighing heavy in his own hand and he finds himself swallowing heavily._

_“I want it.” Will whispers, eyes never leaving the metal as he carefully slips it onto his finger, trying not to think about how it makes him feel caged, how his anxiety attempts to take over his brain. He forces a smile, looking up into the eyes he has learnt to read so well. “I want this. You. Us.” He admits around the lump in his throat. He can see the wariness in Ethan’s face, sees how it’s slowly replaced with that wonderful, slightly crooked smile of his._

_“I love you.” It’s the first time he’s said it, the first time he’s said it_ like this _and it makes warmth rush through Will’s body as he leans in to capture Ethan’s lips with his own._

* * *

 

He can hear the director of the CIA behind him. Hastily ending the call, he lowers his hand, taking a moment to breathe before he turns around to face the older man. _Ethan._ “I have no idea where he is, sir.“ He lies, clenching his fist. He’s not wearing the ring, of course he isn’t. Will has it on a silver chain around his neck, safely hidden away under his shirt. He only wears it on his finger when they’re alone, at home where no one else can see them. But he can feel where it should be, that symbol that marks him as Ethan’s and Ethan as his.

Will knows that Hunley doesn’t believe him but he can’t do anything about it. They’ll question him later, that’s for sure and he knows that he’ll have to take the chain off, leave it somewhere where no one can find it.

They’ve talked about this before, not in detail because neither of them wanted to consider parting and Will knows he’s supposed to stay in DC. He knows it’s the best way to keep an eye on things and to _help_ Ethan but really all he wants to do is leave this very second and find Ethan. They’re supposed to be together, that’s what the whole engagement thing meant. If Ethan is out there, in danger, hunted not only by their enemies but also by their own people, he _needs_ Will.

 

* * *

 

 

“What will you do?” Jane asks him half a month later and it takes Will a whole five minutes until he can say it out loud.

“I’m accepting the offer.” The offer to work with the CIA, the offer to go back to being an analyst and helping Hunley find Ethan. He sees the disapproval in Jane’s eyes but she knows just as well that he’s got no choice. Ethan will need Intel and that means he can’t just follow Luther’s example and resign or request a transfer like Jane did. Ethan would’ve contacted him, would’ve told him if he needed Will in the field. At least that’s what he’s telling himself.

Hunley’s manhunt is – of course – a fruitless effort and they don’t come up with any results for months. And even though Will keeps trying to convince himself that this is a good thing he can’t help the fear that is slowly blooming in his chest. What if he got hurt? Maybe he never made it out of London and they just haven’t found his corpse yet. What if he needs help? The questions haunt him during the day when he tries to focus on his work and infiltrate his mind when he tries to sleep. He has nightmares. More often than not he wakes up bathed in sweat, desperately reaching for the other side of the bed only to find it empty and cold. There’s another what if that sneaks into his mind in these moments of disorientation and anxiety. What if Ethan moved on? What if Ethan doesn’t need – doesn’t want him anymore? He couldn’t possibly think Will betrayed him, could he? He couldn’t have possibly found someone else…

 

He tries to push the thought away, tries to lock it away in the darkest corners of his mind but the little voice of doubt wouldn’t be silenced.

 

* * *

 

 

Five months pass without a sign from Ethan then he finds a letter in his mailbox. There’s no return address on the envelope, just his name and street in a way too familiar handwriting. He doesn’t recognise the stamp, some country in southern America probably but it’s of no importance right now. Will isn’t quite sure why his fingers are shaking when he opens it, why his heart is beating rapidly in his chest. It all but stops when he finally rips it open and a silver ring falls into his hand. He freezes, for a long moment unable to comprehend what is going on. Instinctively he reaches for the chain he’s taken up wearing again after the CIA interrogated him. It’s still there.

Will searches the envelope for something – anything else. A message of some sort, an explanation but there’s nothing. His fingers are numb, when he closes the hand around the ring and pushes it into his pocket. His face is a blank mask when he unlocks the door to his apartment. Only when it falls shut behind him, in the privacy of this home that is too cold and too big for him alone now, he gives in to the maelstrom of emotions in his head. With trembling fingers he pulls out his lighter and sets the envelope on fire. It can’t be found here, if the CIA suspects he’s in contact with Ethan he’ll be entirely useless.

 _Not that it matters now._ He thinks but scolds himself for it immediately. There’s still a chance that all of this is just a misunderstanding.

It’s no misunderstanding. He knows it. Just like he knows that it’s over. Even without writing a single word, Ethan has made it obvious that _they_ are over. It’s his fault, Will thinks, it has to be his fault. He has done something wrong, he should’ve come after Ethan, should’ve followed him wherever he went after London.

He makes it to the bathroom before he throws up, hands clutching the edge of the toilet seat as he feels hot tears run down his cheeks. In this moment he’s glad that he refused his colleague’s offer to join her for lunch earlier. When his stomach has finally calmed down enough so that he’s only dry heaving, he sinks against the wall, scrubbing his hands over his face.

The tears are still flowing, it’s like all the fear, the worry, the anxiety of the last months is all pouring out of him. And here he thought he had himself under control. Maybe this is why Ethan finally decided to end this foolish relationship they had, because Will is weak. His brain never quite worked the way it should after Croatia. He was always on edge, always tense and fidgety even when it was just the two of them. Will knew it bothered Ethan and he’d tried his best to stop.

How long he’s sitting there, on the cold floor of his bathroom, he can’t tell afterwards. When he trusts his limbs enough to obey him, he slowly gets up, fighting off the dizziness. He undresses, leaving his clothes on the floor. Usually he hates leaving things laying around, he hates making a mess. Another thing Ethan’s complained about – though he’d always been more amused than really angry: Will’s almost manic need to put everything where it belonged. He pauses a moment, the only thing he’s wearing now is the silver chain around his neck with the ring. For a moment he hesitates, then he takes it off and lets it drop on the pile of clothes on the floor.

Will takes a shower, letting the scalding hot water burn his skin. He tries to scrub away the feeling of not being good enough, tries to wash off all the thoughts that trouble his mind. It doesn’t work. His skin is pink and raw when he steps out of the shower. He doesn’t throw another glance at the clothes, just grabs a towel and slams the bathroom door shut behind him.

He can’t focus on anything the rest of the evening. Frustrated and once again with tears in his eyes, he decides to go to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

He’s alone. He’s always alone in his nightmares that’s how he knows they’re going to be bad. That is if you don’t count corpses. For a long time after Croatia he’s dreamt about Julia, about how her body must’ve looked like, riddled with bullet holes, torn apart… there wasn’t even enough left of her to identify her by her face alone. After Ethan left he started dreaming about a file. It’s Ethan’s file and over the first page someone wrote CONFIDENTIAL in big red letters.

He always knows what it says before he opens it. He always knows exactly what he’ll find and still he opens it. He flips through the pages. Most of the missions are familiar, most of the faces he encounters. The more pages he turns, the more anxious he gets. His hands are shaking, his chest aches. Somehow it’s always a shock when he gets to the last page. It’s like there’s been a tiny part of him that was still hoping but then this part of him is crushed by the weight of the words.

Deceased. Shot by CIA operatives. Body recovered and shipped back to the US. Sometimes the dreams end here. The file falls from his numb fingers as he starts to scream. But sometimes, sometimes it’ll get worse. Sometimes he finds himself in the morgue, staring down at the pale face of the man he loves. He will beg, beg for Ethan to open his eyes, to get up from the cold metal slab and come back to him. But he never does.

This time it’s different. He doesn’t dream of the file or Ethan’s lifeless body. He knows Ethan is alive now. This time he’s standing in the middle of a frozen wasteland. The snow is too bright for his eyes, it burns him. He wants to run, knows that he has to get away from this place but no matter how hard he tries, his legs won’t move. There’s a shadow, a very familiar shadow. Will reaches out a hand even though the other is too far away. “Ethan!” He tries to call for him, tries to scream but no sound escapes his lips. The shadow disappears and he’s truly alone now. Alone with himself and the knowledge that there is nothing he can do about it. With a sob he sinks to the ground, drawing his knees up to his chest and hiding his face behind his hands.

He wakes up, covered in cold sweat and shivering. His face is wet with tears.

 

* * *

 

 

Will isn’t sure what to do with the rings. He comes close to just throwing them away a few times but in the end he just pushes them into a drawer and leaves them there. He’ll keep them, he decides, if only as a reminder of their time together. He tries not to think about it when he goes back to work but it’s impossible to keep Ethan out of his thoughts when Hunley keeps updating him about his manhunt. Will considers actually trying to help him for once, finding Ethan because as miserable as he feels, he’s also angry. Angry that Ethan would just leave him like that, without a word.

He meets Benji later that day and it’s so hard to keep up his façade with the techie. Will is sure the other has noticed something but they don’t talk about it. Still their little talk reminds him that as much Ethan might hurt him, he’ll always be loyal to him. They were a team and a good one at that. He can’t just give up on him. So he goes back to doing what he’s done for months, now. Looking for leads where Ethan might be and doing his best to keep the CIA agents from finding any actual information without anyone noticing.

 

* * *

 

 

The nightmares don’t stop. Even when Will thinks he’s come to terms with being alone again. He always ends up in that cold and lonely place calling the name of a man who doesn’t want him anymore.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s only a month later when Vienna happens and Hunley is more determined than ever to find and _kill_ Ethan. Will wonders why he still cares. If Ethan wanted his help he’d contacted him. When he goes to find Luther and ask him for his help in locating Ethan, he reminds himself that he’s only doing it because he wants to make sure Ethan is alive. He’ll help him one last time, then he’ll leave for good.

Luther doesn’t trust him and Will thinks that it’s probably for the best. He doesn’t trust himself if he’s honest. Thinking of Ethan still makes his chest ache and the closer they get to Morocco the wider the hole in his chest seems to get. He tries to distract himself by reading up on that British agent, Ilsa. It doesn’t help. The more he finds out the more he wonders what she means to Ethan. The jealousy is eating away at him, even though he attempts to convince himself that it’s just worry for his ex-team. He lies a lot these days, mostly to himself and the saddest thing is that it’s not working.

 

* * *

 

 

Morocco is a disaster. They find Ethan and Benji only to watch how they almost die in a car crash. Will can barely get his voice to work because his throat is dry and he can’t really look at Ethan. And then he takes off, without another word. He chases after that woman and Will is once again left behind. He swallows down the tears, knowing that this is neither the place nor the time to show weakness and moves to help Benji out of the car. At least he’s alright. The techie tells them about what happened, everything he knows about The Syndicate and the man with the glasses Ethan has been tracking. Will has to force himself to listen closely because his thoughts keep straying.

They find Ethan soon enough and Will instinctively sits down on the chair closest to him. It’s a a habit and he immediately regrets it, leaning back as far as he can without having Benji and Luther notice something. Ethan notices, of course he does, Will can see how his expression wavers for a little moment.

Will gets up as soon as Ethan has stopped talking. With a curt nod and a muttered ‘I need some air’, more for Benji’s sake than for anything else, he turns around and leaves. Behind him, he can still hear the others chatting but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about anything at the moment because his thoughts are a mess and he has no idea what he’s supposed to do. Ethan is alive, great. He’s found him before the CIA could and warned him about Hunley’s men. Now they only have to get that Lane and then Will won’t have to be around Ethan anymore. It’s strange how much he wanted to see the other during the first months after his appearance and now the older man’s mere presence seems to tear at his insides.

Once he steps outside he pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Lighting one he presses it to his lips and sucks greedily. It’s a habit he’s picked up from his first partner – _boyfriend –_ at the IMF, another person he’d rather not think about.

“Will.” He closes his eyes, refusing to turn around or acknowledge the warmth spreading through his body at the familiar sound of that voice. Ethan only used his first name when they were alone. Will can hear the other approach him, can practically feel him closing in.

No. He can’t deal with this, not yet. Why can’t they just pretend for a little longer until the mission is over? “What?” He snaps, finally turning around to look at his _ex-_ lover. Ethan looks taken aback and Will feels a tiny bit of triumph at that. Ethan reaches out a hand to touch him and Will takes a step back. He doesn’t get why Ethan has to torture him like that. He already made it clear that he doesn’t want him anymore, why would he act like he still cares?

“Will, we need to talk.” Oh no. _Oh no._ He’s not doing that. He doesn’t need any excuses or explanations. He can deal with this, alright, he’s no child anymore.

Narrowing his eyes, he shakes his head, trying to push away the pain in his chest. “Fuck off, Hunt.” He meant for it to sound sharp but even to him it sounds pathetic, weak. Ethan opens his mouth to say something but Will cuts him off. “Just don’t.” Flicking the only half smoked cigarette into the dust, he walks past him and back inside.

 

* * *

 

 

He sticks with Benji for the rest of the day. He makes sure that Luther sits between Ethan and him on the plane ride because he can’t stand looking at him. He only talks when he has to and always keeps his distance. He’s angry and hurt but that won’t stop him from completing this mission. And Ethan, Ethan pretends that nothing is wrong. He even has the audacity to smile at him, like he didn’t send Will his engagement ring in a blank envelope only a month ago. Will can’t stand it.

It doesn’t keep him from worrying though. Worrying that Ethan might be losing his mind because he’s so focused on catching Lane and finding that Ilsa of his. And it gets worse. Ethan meets her at the airport and when she offers him to ‘get away together’, Will almost loses it. She’s clearly playing him, has been playing him from the beginning, Will can see it clearly. He’s the analyst but no one listens to him. And then they take Benji. He’s the last person Will can talk to, the last person he trusts with Jane far away. He wants to yell at Ethan, wants to grab him by his jacket and shake him. Or maybe just punch him in the face. But Ethan stays calm, infuriatingly calm.

They return to their hideout and go over the plan, _Ethan’s plan._ Will only nods, not speaking up anymore because no one cares about his opinion anyway. He’s worn out, he so dearly wants to get a drink – or a dozen – until he can will his brain to just shut up. He grabs his mobile and leaves to call the CIA. The thought alone makes his skin itch. Of course they’ll believe him and if he’s honest they have good reason to. It does sound a bit like him, to call the CIA and tell them about everything as long as Hunley promises to keep Ethan safe and out of harm’s way. He shakes his head, chasing the thought away because he’d never betray Ethan no matter what. And isn’t that pathetic? Even though Ethan all but dumped him without as much as a word, he’d still do anything for him.

The realisation tastes bitter on his tongue. He’s already dialled the number when a hand on his shoulder stops him.

“What do you want?” Will doesn’t have the strength do to this. He stares at his shoes, wishing the other would just go away and leave him to do his job.

But Ethan doesn’t leave. “What’s wrong, Will? You haven’t looked at me a single time since we left Morocco. If it’s because I didn’t contact you I thought it was safer for you…”

Will cuts him off. Looking up at the other he feels rage boiling up in his chest. “What do you think it’s about, _Hunt?_ ” He deliberately uses the other’s last name and the word is cold as ice on his lips. “You left me rot in DC for five month and then you send me your ring without a single word! No: ‘I’m sorry, Will, I don’t love you anymore’, no: ‘I found someone better sorry, Will’ or ‘this is just not working out with us’, no. I work my ass off for months trying to keep the CIA from getting to you. I’m risking my job and my fucking life for you and you don’t even think it necessary to tell me why the fuck you’re breaking up with me! I thought you were _dead_ Ethan and then you do _that_.” He’s yelling now, fists clenched and his field of vision is blurry with tears that he does his best to blink away. “And then you pretend all is well. Like you don’t even know why I’d be upset. _Fuck you, Ethan! Fuck. You!”_

He bites his bottom lip hard enough to taste blood because he doesn’t want to start crying now. He’s not even sure if it’s the anger or the ache in his chest that’s worse.

“Will, hey.” And for once Ethan doesn’t sound calm or composed like he usually does. Against his better judgement Will looks up at him but he can’t read the expression on the other’s face. He looks exhausted, a lot more so than he did before. Only now does Will notice the dark shadows under his eyes and how his dark hair had started to grey around his temples. Ethan runs a hand through his hair and he suddenly looks ten years older than he is.

“I didn’t-“ He stops for a moment, as though he’s not quite sure what to say or how to say it. “I wanted to keep you safe. That’s why I wasn’t contacting you. I knew you were looking out for me because it wouldn’t have taken the CIA so long to find me if you weren’t. So I tried my best to keep away as much as I hated it. You won’t believe how close I was sometimes to just book a flight back to DC because I wanted to see you. I didn’t know how I could tell you that I would return to you as soon as I managed this whole mess. And then I thought of the ring…” Will didn’t realise that he was holding his breath until Ethan paused again. “I didn’t send it back because I wanted to break off our engagement, I sent it back because I wanted for you to keep it safe. I had to abandon half of my safe houses because of the CIA and I knew The Syndicate was close to finding me and I knew they would take it if I they got to me and I was still carrying it on me. So I sent it to you. Once again I didn’t write anything in case it would fall in the wrong hands…”

Slowly, Will exhales, this time not caring how much his voice is shaking, he asks: “You’re serious?” Because as much as he wants to believe what Ethan just said, there’s a part of him that just can’t. That little voice of doubt in his head is trying to convince him that it’s just another trick, another lie. “You still want to be with me?” And his voice sounds like that of a young William Brandt who can’t believe that there would be anyone who could ever love him for who he was.

Ethan nods. “Dead serious.” And Will shakes his head, not because he doesn’t believe him but because he was _so stupid._ With his free hand he wipes the tears from his face, suddenly feeling ashamed for assuming that Ethan would just leave him like that. Laughter bubbles up in his chest, falls from his lips because he’s just so relieved.

He feels Ethan’s hand at his cheek and when he looks up the older man is so close that he can feel his breath on his lips. The laughter dies on his lips and he’s not quite sure who moved first but then they’re kissing and it’s so familiar and gentle and Will is pretty sure his heart is beating too fast for its own good.

They pull back and Ethan rests his forehead against Will’s for another moment while is thumb draws little circles on his cheek. And there’s that smile, that smile that Will missed so much over the last months and for a little moment everything is alright. Will leans in to peck his lips again before he pulls back. “Benji.” He reminds Ethan. As much as he wants this moment to last forever they still have to save their friend. They’ll need to talk about this, he knows but the mission comes first.

 

* * *

 

 

“And why should I believe you, that you would be honest about Hunt’s whereabouts?” Hunley asks, obviously not trusting Will to be honest. The director of the CIA will never believe that Will gave Ethan up so Will’s only option is being honest. And now he can say it without having to fear that it sounds wrong:

“Because I love him. And I can’t watch him die. So if you can guarantee that you’ll take him in without killing him, I’ll tell you everything.”

Hunley believes him.

 

* * *

 

 

Despite Will’s fears everything goes according to plan. His palms are sweaty as he listens to the interaction between Benji/Lane and Ethan and he’s almost sure that Lane will just let them all die because he’s a bastard. But Ethan was right - Ethan is always right - in thinking that the man needs the money desperately for his plan and so it works. It works until Ethan and Ilsa start running away.

Will’s heart is racing when he hears Ethan over the comm. Every shot that is fired makes him flinch and he has a hard time not yelling at his lover over the comm because he knows that it wouldn’t help. When Ethan jumps down the ‘rabbit hole’ as they have dubbed it, he has to pull himself together not to step out of the shadows. There’s blood. Ethan is bleeding and moaning in pain and Will isn’t sure how much of that is just for show.

But then Lane follows and Will levels his own weapon at the man’s head just in case something goes wrong. He almost wants to pull the trigger, his finger is itching. This man almost killed his Ethan. This man tortured his Ethan and it is this man’s fault that the last six months even happened. But he doesn’t, he waits patiently because Ethan deserves his revenge.

Only when they’re already in the police van, watching Ilsa and Ethan hug, he feels exhaustion rush through him like a wave. He hasn’t slept in days and the emotional roller coaster of the last hours wasn’t exactly helpful. He’s glad that someone else is driving because he can look after Ethan’s wound.

“It’s nothing.” The older man reassures him but Will still carefully cleans it out and bandages it. And if his fingers linger for a bit on the other’s warm skin, neither of them comments on it. They leave the van in front of the police station, including the instructions as to who exactly is there in the trunk and what kind of gas he was exposed to. Then they split up. Benji and Luther take one car, Ethan and Will the other. Ethan insists on driving and though he’s protesting at first, Will gratefully let’s him.

“I love you, you know.” He mumbles, his head leant against the window. The pale streetlights pass by at random, mirrored in their windshield and the rhythmic raindrops slowly lull him to sleep. He can hear Ethan hum as the man reaches out a hand to caress his cheek and for the first time in months, Will is smiling. He falls asleep before he can hear Ethan’s reply.

_“I love you too, Will.”_

**Author's Note:**

> okay so I just saw Rogue Nation yesterday and I thought that Ethan and Will just acted like a (married) couple with their whole arguing and overprotectiveness so I had to write the thing and I still have so many feelings I bet this won't be my last fic featuring these two


End file.
